The Polyjuice Potion- Take 2
by Metallic Jargon
Summary: Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets: but a different kind of POV. Someone else makes use of Polyjuice potion. Malfoy and Zabini make a bet. Do they serve egg at breakfast? (that’s not the bet- just wondering) Follows very closely to the book.
1. Malfoy talks with Zabini

**The Polyjuice Potion- Take 2!!**

**Summary: ** Malfoy talks to Zabini

There were only a few people in the Slytherin common room Draco Malfoy noted as he leapt gracefully into his favourite chair opposite the fire, not paying any attention to Blaise Zabini sitting next to him. It was obvious to anyone watching that Zabini was sulking, and he grew irritated when Malfoy didn't seem to notice. 

'So, how was Quidditch practice?' Zabini finally spat out as he continued to stare directly into the flames, a silvery-red wrapper drifting from his unclenched hand gently to the ground. 

'Oh…pretty good,' Malfoy said airily. 'We had to share the pitch with the ruddy Griffindors though. But otherwise, good." A smile spread across his face. 'But the best part was seeing Weasley's face when I showed him the new brooms my father bought for the entire team!' He snorted. 'I wouldn't have been surprised if he'd fainted- that's probably the closest he's ever going to get to anything remotely that expensive.' He was about to tell Zabini about Ron's backfiring curse when the other boy spoke. 

'You know Malfoy,' Zabini said in a cold voice, 'you're only on the team because of those brooms. It's not like you have any _real talent or anything.' _

Malfoy looked at him with an amused expression. 'You're just jealous because you're not on the team,' he said smugly. 

Zabini fumed. It was true that he was jealous of Malfoy, not only because of his position in the game, but also of him being one of the smartest in the grade (although Hermione always managed to beat him), and Professor Snape obviously preferred him to anyone else in the class. Malfoy just seemed to have everything he wanted, and with his father being a prominent figure in the wizarding world, he was treated with a sort of fearful respect. It all seemed too easy for him, and Zabini told him so. 'You didn't do anything to get on the team. Malfoys never do anything. Everyone knows the Malfoys are just plain _lazy,' he sneered. 'They have everything handed to them on a silver platter.' _

Malfoy's smile faded. 'The Malfoys had to work_ very hard to get that "silver platter"- we __deserve "everything" we have,' he said softly, narrowing his eyes. 'On the other hand, "everyone" knows the __Zabinis only managed to climb the ranks of society by clinging onto high-profile families—like __parasites—and hoping their…prosperity rubbed off on them,' he said, eyes glinting with malice. _

Zabini glared at him in fury. He bit his tongue, barely restraining his anger. '…All I'm saying,' he finally managed to get out, 'is that life's too…effortless for you. You've got half the student population either scared of you or…no, that's it, just scared of you, whether its because of your well-known family name, or your oversized bodyguards Crabbe and Goyle…' He broke off and glanced around to see if the aforementioned Slytherins were listening, but he couldn't find them. Malfoy raised an eyebrow and Zabini continued. 

'I mean, honestly, the only thing you have to worry about is whether Potter and his stupid friends will get into enough trouble!' Zabini stopped and calmed himself down. He shouldn't have said so much, he realised. He'd never revealed his feelings or thoughts to anybody, and he wasn't exactly sure why he'd done so just then. 

Malfoy relaxed, running his thin fingers through his hair. "Hey, being Draco Malfoy isn't always as fun as that,' he smirked. 'I bet you after just an hour of being _me, you'd be glad you're __only Blaise Zabini.' He looked down condescendingly at Zabini. _

Zabini had composed himself, and returned his face to its usual neutral state, hiding his abhorrence of the pale boy that sat next to him. 'I'll take you up on that bet Malfoy,' he said lightly. Malfoy laughed snidely. 

'Really, Zabini, how exactly are you going to be _me? Not only is your face so ugly no one could ever mistake you for me, but you'd be such a terrible Malfoy, my father would probably disown you!' Malfoy laughed again, but Zabini didn't get mad. _

'Shut up Malfoy and listen...' He smirked, and Malfoy listened, albeit warily, as Zabini explained the details of their "bet". 


	2. The First Attack

**The Polyjuice Potion- Take 2!!**

**Summary: ** The First Attack

Another talk with Zabini

­­ 

'Enemies of the Heir, beware! You'll be next Mudbloods!' Malfoy grinned at the sight of the hanging, immobile cat. Filch appeared a moment later and started wailing when he saw his frozen pet. Dumbledore, on cue, pushed past the crowd and ushered Harry, Ron, Hermione and Filch up the stairs to Professor Lockhart's room. 

Malfoy could hear all the chatter of the kids behind him. They were whispering things like, 'Did you see who was right there? It was Harry Potter!' 

'Potter's the Heir of Slytherin?' That was Pansy Parkinson whispering loudly to Millicent Bulstrode. She, like most other Slytherins, knew what the word 'Heir' was referring to. 

('Slytherin? But he's a Griffindor!…' Millicent hissed back). 

'Harry Potter killed Filch's cat!' 

'Did you see what's written on the wall…?' 

'Serve's it right! I never did like Mrs. Norris, or that Filch.' 

'What's the Chamber of Secrets?' 

'That's impossible! I never would have thought it!' 

Malfoy rolled his eyes and made his way through the passages to the Slytherin Common room, Crabbe and Goyle trailing behind him. 

Goyle ran up to him. 'Do you think it's true Malfoy, that Harry Potter really is the Heir of Slytherin?' he breathed. 

'That's rich—Harry _Potter?!' Malfoy guffawed. 'There's no way he could be the Heir of Slytherin. He probably doesn't even know what the Chamber of Secrets is.' _

Goyle was quiet for a while. 'Do you think…who is the Heir then?' he asked. 

Malfoy sighed exasperatedly. 'Can we talk about this when we get inside?' They were heading deeper and deeper under the school, and it was getting colder. 

They finally reached the Slytherin common room entrance. The wall was already open since someone had just gone in, so they stepped through it and entered. 

It was getting late, and Crabbe and Goyle were half-asleep. But they didn't want to leave Malfoy by himself unless he told them he wanted to be left alone. 

Malfoy could see from their wearied expression that they were tired, although Crabbe and Goyle wore a similar expression when they were wide-awake (so maybe it was just a look of stupidity). In any case, Malfoy got up and yawned. 'I'm going to bed,' he said, and made his way to his room. Crabbe and Goyle breathed a sigh of relief and followed suit. 

Later that night, Malfoy came down to the common room, and with a flick of his wand, started the fire up again. Ten minutes later, he heard footsteps behind him. 'You're late,' he said without turning around, twirling his wand with his fingers. 

'No, you're early.' Zabini walked around and sat down on the chair opposite. In his hands he held a huge, heavy book. It was very old, but the gilded cover on the front looked well polished. 

'Okay, let's see.' He leant over and grabbed the book from Zabini. He turned over the cover and flipped through the pages. 'I've seen all this!' he scorned. 'We didn't need this book- Father has most of these potion recipes in his library at home!' 

'Yeah. At _home. Do you think we can get it from here?' _

'No,' Malfoy admitted. He thought of suggesting that maybe he could write a letter to his father to send the recipe they wanted, but he doubted it would be given without an explanation, and a "bet" wasn't a very good reason for needing it. 

'Alright, so what do we use to make the potion?' Malfoy quickly scanned the headings of each page, till finally he found what he was looking for. He whistled. 'This isn't going to be easy. Most of this stuff isn't available-' 

'To _us.' Zabini held out a long knobbly finger and pointed to the second last ingredient. 'But Professor Snape should have it. I remember him saying something about this one some time back.' _

'So, what, you want me to _steal from Snape? You must be joking!' _

Zabini rolled his eyes. 'Look, you're his favourite student. Can't you wrangle it out of him somehow?' 

'Not without a reason. You know he'll want one, even if it is me asking for it. I mean, he wanted a reason for us wanting to borrow this book.' Malfoy pushed the book back into Zabini's hands. 'You get it. I'll find all the other ingredients. It was your idea anyway.' Zabini slammed the book shut and didn't say anything, although Malfoy might have heard him mutter something that sounded like, 'Brainless turd…' 

Zabini headed off to bed, as did Malfoy, but unlike Malfoy, he didn't go straight to sleep. Instead, he took out a spare parchment and his quill, and scribbled down the potion recipe. He wanted to return the book to the library the next day. 


	3. DADA

**The Polyjuice Potion- Take 2!!**

**Summary: **Defence Against the Dark Arts

* * *

During Defence Against the Dark Arts, while Professor Lockhart was rabbiting on about the evil Irish troll he had cured of bad foot odour, Blaise could hear Crabbe and Goyle asking Malfoy again whom he thought the Heir of Slytherin was. He sniggered as Malfoy hissed to them, 'I've already told you this a hundred times! I…don't…know!' 

Lockhart asked for an assistant to help him portray the scene of how he'd managed to grab his wand back from the troll while doing an Irish jig at the same time. He called upon Millicent Bulstrode, who, in Malfoy's opinion, was a good choice. She certainly played the part of the troll very well, and as Lockhart yelled out, 'Look angrier!' she actually did start growing redder in the face. In fact, she was gripping his wand so tightly, most thought she was going to break it. 

While this was going on, Pansy and her gang of Slytherin girls at the back of the class were discussing the recent events. 

'What I can't understand,' Lili Aceae, a tiny fierce looking girl said in a high-pitched voice, 'is why the Heir chose to attack a stupid _cat. I mean, at least it should have Petrified Filch!' _

'Maybe it's, like, taking things slow first,' suggested another girl, Janice Prat. 'Like, maybe it, I dunno, wants to start small first, then build its way up till, like, finally…' 

'Yeah.' Pansy smiled unpleasantly. 'I wish it would attack the Griffindors next…I wouldn't mind seeing Parvati Patil dead.' Pansy was extremely jealous of Parvati and Lavender's looks. The girls laughed, though Lockhart thought they were just amused at the antics of the trolls' pet Turglemuff (which was supposedly a cross between a turtle and a squid. An unhappy Slytherin was chosen to play that part). 

Malfoy, who couldn't help overhearing their conversation, leaned back in his chair and said quietly, 'I heard Lockhart's parents were muggles. Maybe if the Heir's got any spare time…' 

The girls started laughing again at that, and Crabbe and Goyle joined in, even though they didn't know what was so funny. 

Blaise looked at Malfoy, who had brought his chair forward again and was now sitting upright with a slight smirk on his lips. He growled softly. 

'Did you just say something funny?' he turned around and asked him with a sneer, glancing at Crabbe and Goyle. 'It couldn't have been too clever if those goons of yours find it entertaining.' 

'It doesn't take a lot of brain power find my jokes "entertaining",' Malfoy said calmly, 'I have to make them simple so people like _you can understand them. Although it doesn't seem to have been simple enough, since you obviously didn't find it funny.' _

'Maybe because it _wasn't funny.' _

'Or maybe you're just too dense to get it.' 

'Or maybe-' 

A great explosion cut him off. The class stared at the grey billowing smoke that seemed to have surrounded Professor Lockhart. The boy at the front of the class who'd been taking part in Lockhart's drama performance was clutching his wand and smiling tightly. He made his way back to his seat. 

Everyone was silent. 'What do we do now?' someone asked dully after a while. The smoke still hadn't cleared. At that moment, the bell rang. Every Slytherin jumped out of their seat and sped out the door, laughing.

'Oh well,' Malfoy shrugged as he passed Professor Lockhart, who was lying unconscious on the ground. 'Lucky for the next class who has him.'

* * *


	4. The Match

**The Polyjuice Potion- Take 2!!**

**Summary: ** The Match 

* * *

Most of the school had turned out to see the match between Griffindor and Slytherin. All the Slytherins stood in the stands cheering loudly for their team (except for Derick Moon, who was banned from watching the game because of the hex he'd cast on Professor Lockhart). They wanted to see how badly the Griffindors would lose. 

The other houses cheered for Griffindor, though they too believed it was a losing battle. After all, the Slytherins had the best brooms money could buy—it was impossible to beat them. Harry felt butterflies in his stomach. Oliver Wood's pep talk didn't help matters much. Harry was worried he wouldn't be able to live up to expectations. If they lost…_No, don't think it, Harry said firmly to himself. 'We are going to __win!' _

As they mounted their brooms and rose to the skies, Harry heard Malfoy yell, 'All right there, Scarhead?' He didn't reply, instead swerving sharply to the right to avoid a bludger from knocking him off his broom. 'Close one Harry,' George called out cheerfully, and followed the bludger. 

.... 

'Yes, close one,' Malfoy silently thought. He vaguely glanced around to look for the snitch, but his eyes invariably turned back to Harry. He was being chased by a Bludger that didn't seem to want to leave him alone. Malfoy laughed aloud but stopped as Harry ducked and narrowly missed being hit. 'What the…' Malfoy pursed his lips. Something was wrong. Bludgers weren't supposed to concentrate on only one player, but this one was following Harry around everywhere. It had obviously been tampered with. The Griffindors would probably think their team did it, Malfoy realised and rolled his eyes. As if the Slytherins would stoop so low, especially in a Quidditch match they could so easily win without help. 

The Griffindors called a time-out, so the Slytherins landed and gathered to talk about the rogue bludger. 

'Oh Gawd!' Adrian Pucey panted, a broad grin plastered on his face. He slapped his knee and roared with laughter. 'Gawd, that there bludger's sure doin' its job!' he managed between gulps. 

'Oh yeah!' cheered Dominic Won, a Beater. Then, 'Hey, who fixed that bludger! That's great!' 

No one admitted to doing it, but no one cared. They were winning, and it felt good. 

'Can you imagine what they're discussing over there?' said a Chaser, pointing at the huddle of Griffindors. They all turned and looked and started jeering at the opposing team behind Madame Hooch's back, as she made her way over to them to ask them if they were ready. 

Malfoy didn't laugh, but quietly waited for them to turn back to Marcus Flint, the Captain, who was also waiting. 

'Okay girls,' he said when they had given him their attention, 'this is all good, and I want you to keep it up. You,' he pointed to Dominic, 'stick with the second Bludger, and you,' he said, indicating the other Beater, 'you stop those Weasley twins from getting the Bludger away from Potter. And you,' he turned to Malfoy, 'get that snitch. Alright, let's go!' 

The team cheered and clambered onto their brooms. At the sound of the whistle, they were up in the air again. 

---------------------- 

Blaise managed to slip away from the crowd when Madame Hooch blew the whistle for the time out. He ran back to the castle. He knew exactly where he was heading. The only things he had to watch out for were the ghosts, Filch and any loose teachers who had decided to patrol the school. 

As he reached Professor Snape's office, he slowed down and pulled out his wand, touching it to the lock on the door. 

'Ok,' he muttered, 'let's hope this works. _Clarus S__igillum!' And magically, the door swung open. Blaise glanced around furtively, then entered and closed the door behind him. _

It was dark inside with no windows to let the light in. '_Lumos,' Blaise whispered and his wand lit up dimly, giving a shadowy view of the office. To see clearly, the torches would have to be ignited, and they could only be lit with a spell Blaise didn't know. He made his way straight to the cupboard and opened it. Inside sat rows upon rows of bottles and small vials of different colour liquids and powders. There were jars filled with other ingredients too. Some of the containers weren't labelled. _

Blaise searched for what he needed—luckily those had a tag on them—and he shoved the ingredients into a hidden pocket in his robes. As he was turning to go, he caught sight of a small crystal bottle filled with clear liquid. The label was barely legible especially in the fading light, but Blaise managed to read it. He smirked and took an empty phial from the shelf. He poured a few drops of the clear liquid into it, and pocketed it, putting the bottle back. 

He slowly closed the cupboard doors, and left the office. When he turned to shut the door, the phial fell out of his pocket onto the floor. Luckily, it didn't break. As Blaise bent down to pick it up, he heard a familiar raspy voice behind him. Blaise groaned inwardly. 

'What are you doing here?' Filch snarled. Argus Filch had become even more short-tempered ever since his cat, his best friend, had been Petrified. 

Blaise, who was still in a bending position, scooped up the receptacle without Filch noticing and clutched at his stomach. 'I…I have to go to M-Madame Pomfrey,' he moaned, his face twisted in pain. He secretly dropped the phial into his pocket and continued to groan. 'I…I don't feel so good…I think I'm g-going to…' He made a violent retching sound and Filch stumbled backwards in dismay. 

'Well then…go, quickly! I don't want you throwing up all over the floor!' He shooed Blaise away and Blaise ran off, still clutching his stomach. 

As he got further away, his pained face turned into a victorious one. He smirked and ran to the Hospital Wing, just in case Filch was still watching. 

---------------------- 

Blaise arrived at the Hospital Wing and turned around, hearing voices behind him. As they came closer, Blaise realised it was Hermione and Ron escorting Harry to Madame Pomfrey. His arm seemed strangely limp. 

Madame Pomfrey, as if sensing them, threw the door wide open and rushed right past Blaise to Harry. All three were very concerned about Harry's predicament, and didn't notice the other boy. Following typical Slytherin impulse, Blaise dashed inside the room and flung himself under the bed. The sheets hung down the sides of the bed, shielding him from any onlookers. 

He heard Potter climb into bed and Madame Pomfrey tell him off, then draw the curtains around the bed. Ron was changing Harry into his pyjamas—he had to stay the night. Then Pomfrey left, and the dream team started talking. 

'We won!' said Ron happily. 'That was some catch you made!…' 

_So, Malfoy didn't get the snitch, Blaise thought ruefully, shaking his head. __Even with the better brooms, we still lost. _

After Ron laughed at Malfoy's loss, Hermione started talking, and Blaise settled himself down to listen. 

'I want to know how he fixed that Bludger,' she said sullenly. 

Harry fidgeted, making the bed creak, and said, 'We can add that to the list of questions we'll ask him when we've taken the Polyjuice Potion. I hope it tastes better than this stuff…' 

Blaise listened with increasing astonishment. _Polyjuice Potion? They were going to take Polyjuice Potion __to question Malfoy? Blaise almost laughed the irony of it all. The door suddenly burst open and the rest of the Griffindor team trooped in to see Harry. Everyone started talking about the match, and Blaise lost interest. The noise level grew, till finally Madame Pomfrey told them all to get out. _

Finally, about an hour later, Blaise heard the soft snore of Harry sleeping. Slowly, he crawled out from underneath the bed and snuck to the door. He stole out, closing the door quietly behind him. 

*

For the rest of the day, Malfoy avoided Marcus Flint as much as he could. In the Slytherin common room after dinner, he told Crabbe and Goyle to leave him alone, and he went up to his dormitory. He drew the curtains around him and sulked, and if anyone came up to talk to him, he threatened to hex them. In this way, Blaise didn't get to tell Malfoy what he'd heard.

* * *

_§~**Author's Notes™: **ok, it's like this: I'm avoiding looking at the 3rd book because I don't like the cover ;)_ _so if there were any references in that book relevant to anything in my story, I'm sorry but it ain't gonna be taken into account! Also, thanks for the reviews. I don't think my story is very good, but I'm very excited by it all! To _**Green Eyed Lady: **_I can't believe I missed that Lili Aceae thing! See, I was looking for a name, so I went to Encarta to look up stuff, and I think I looked up 'Garlic'. Anyway, Liliaceae is a type of garlic (or something like that). And Latin was never my forte (considering I never learnt it) so that spell Blaise does to the door...well, I hope for the best that it makes sense....In the 4th book, Snape says only a wizard could break the charm on his door. I didn't think 'Alahamora' was appropriate. Okay, that's all my ranting for now.~§_


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